Mom

Silky sun-orange hair,
Smelled like peaches:
Dances with the wind,
Changes color in the water.

The stress of it all
The cigarettes lit
Extreme stress took over
Drugs began to scent the air

Horrible shouts
Cursing and mistakes;
The smack of the palm cuffing my cheek,
Continuous stinging brick-red mark, giving pain for hours

The chaos of the whole incident gives my mind earthquakes
The gravel pummeling the desk,
Hearing the words Custody to Dwayne Clark paralyzed me.
My heart began to ache,
My mind began to crumple,
I was collapsing, falling apart.

My mind created a seal to lock the memories away.

-Isaac Clark